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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223118">Melody of Your Misery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealrootsG/pseuds/TealrootsG'>TealrootsG</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>My Chemical Romance, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge - My Chemical Romance (Album)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Murder, Mutilation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Revenge Era Gerard Way, but so is Gerard, everyone's a mess but that's okay, frank is a little insane, projekt revolution frank, whole book is a trigger warning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:21:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealrootsG/pseuds/TealrootsG</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is missing, but it's not like anyone has noticed.</p><p>Frank has a new project, someone to control and torture.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frank Iero/Gerard Way</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. murder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gerard didn't know why he was the one trapped in a car with a murderer, but there he was, sitting still in the passenger's seat, eyes glued to the road because if he dared look anywhere else, he'd freak out. He could pretend he was somewhere else, and not within proximity of the man who'd just murdered his parents, however, he found it extremely hard to do when the man kept on shouting profanities at other drivers, who were apparently too slow.</p><p>Granted, they were being chased by police cars, so safe driving wasn't their priority. Around fifteen minutes ago, Gerard had rang the police, back when he'd just witnessed a brutal murder, and had possessed a phone to ring the authorities. It was also a time when he still had a shred of free will, when his hands weren't bound together with rope that the murderer had pulled out of his ass apparently -because who the fuck carried rope around? A sadistic bitch, that's who.</p><p>There were silent tears streaming down his face as Gerard held back choked noises that resounded in his throat, created by pure fear. Hopefully, if he didn't make a single sound or move, then the man would forget he was there. But he hadn't. He was well aware there was a tear-stained boy hunched over in the passenger's side.</p><p>"We gotta fucking lose 'em." The man scowled, saying 'we' as if Gerard didn't want the police to find them and save him from the hell they were hurtling towards.</p><p>Afraid of disagreeing, Gerard just nodded quietly, eyes wide.</p><p>"You know how to steer, kid?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over. Admittedly, the terrified expression on the boy's face was digging up an ounce of sympathy that he had left in his cold soul, though soon that sympathy would turn in to anger if the boy didn't stop fucking crying.</p><p>Yes, Gerard was eighteen now, he knew how to drive, but he hadn't had practice on a motorway, or at such a high speed with so many other obstacles such as other living people that could get injured if their car so much as swerved the wrong way.</p><p>"Well, do you?" The man pressed, hitting the steering wheel in an attempt to control his anger. They couldn't afford to progress slowly, things had to be quick.</p><p>"Y-yes, but I-"</p><p>"Good." The murderer reached across and skilfully untied the ropes binding Gerard's wrists with one hand, which was kind of impressive because Gerard couldn't have done it. Obviously, this wasn't the man's first crime, whereas Gerard hadn't been kidnapped before, having not experienced being restrained.</p><p>"Take the wheel, don't crash, and don't try anything stupid." The man demanded urgently, winding down the window as he climbed out to perch on the side door, a gun in his hands retrieved from a holster secured around his shoulder underneath his bomber jacket.</p><p>Gerard stared, unable to breathe. The car began to drift, and the murderer kicked him in the shoulder with his foot, signalling for him to shift it and drive otherwise the car would plough in to a ditch. There was a weight pressing the pedals so the car kept racing past. Anyway, in his frightened state, Gerard couldn't remember which pedal would have been the break even if he attempted to stop the car.</p><p>As much as Gerard didn't want to help, he didn't exactly want to die either, so he manoeuvred in to position without accidentally knocking the gear stick. His hands were shaking as he gripped the wheel, steering them back in to one lane instead of floating between two. Luckily, ahead was just a long stretch of the motorway so he didn't have to worry about roundabouts or traffic lights.</p><p>Above, he could hear the deafening shots of a gun being fired, probably targeted at the police car's wheels, though Gerard didn't dare tear his gaze from the road to check.</p><p>It didn't matter anyway, as long as the police stopped chasing them, the man didn't care how it happened. Whether he blew the car up, shot the driver, burst the wheels or lost them in traffic. They could fucking explode sky high for all he cared.</p><p>Fortunately, the murderer had anticipated the police being in the equation somewhere, and had a bandana covering his face from the eyes down. So they hadn't seen his face, meaning he could still go to public places if he wanted to, like cafes and shops. Plus, he needed to go shopping soon for the boy sat in the car. He had a new toy to play with, despite not having intended to take someone home.</p><p>The sounds of tires screeching, vehicles crashing in to one another, glass being shattered, and faint screams told Gerard everything he needed to know. The man had just injured more people, possibly killed a few, and put other's lives in danger, but Gerard supposed with the man's current occupation being a murderer and kidnapper, that he certainly didn't give a flying fuck.</p><p>"Move." The man ordered bluntly, swinging himself back in to the driver's seat to continue their journey. Of course, Gerard didn't know where the hell they were going, though he was tempted by anxiety to ask. "We lost 'em." The man smiled victoriously, eyes sparkling under the street lights with excitement, a contrast to Gerard's glossy scared ones.</p><p>Swallowing the lump in his throat, Gerard nodded. He didn't know what to say. Was he supposed to reply?</p><p>Surprisingly, the man stepped harder on the accelerator pedal, tearing down the motorway towards the nearest exit. By now, they could hear ambulance sirens wailing in the distance as they left the chaos behind. They glided seamlessly in to ordinary traffic, blending in with their surroundings.</p><p>"They'll have our reg plate." The man sighed irritably, running his fingers through his long brown hair.</p><p>Gerard knew what that meant. They were going to ditch the car. Maybe this was his chance to run.</p><p>A little further down the road, once they'd turned out of the busy centre, heading towards the woodland surrounding the city, the man abruptly swerved off the road in to a ditch. The car lurched forwards, throwing them both in to the dashboard. Gerard banged his head on the plastic, groaning in pain as he fell back against the chair.</p><p>The bonnet had collided with a huge tree, and it was leaking smoke, further adding to Gerard's fear. It better not fucking blow up, he thought, though running from an explosion would be a good excuse to try and escape, sprinting in the general direction of home.</p><p>Home. He didn't really have one to go back to. Parents were dead, no brothers or sisters, no friends either. Gerard was utterly alone. The perfect victim.</p><p>"You good?" The man asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Neither of them didn't seem to have any damage inflicted, besides a headache.</p><p>"Yeah." Rubbing his head, Gerard stared at the door handle, itching to wrench it open and run. However, his chances were annoyingly slim, they were far away from anything recognisable to Gerard, and he didn't doubt he wouldn't get shot.</p><p>"Give me your hands." The man instructed, snatching up the rope he'd used previously to restrain him.</p><p>Sighing deeply, Gerard complied. What other choice did he have? He held his hands out, allowing him to wrap the rope around his wrists, and he yanked them tight, causing Gerard to wince.</p><p>"Alright, pretty boy." The man flashed a brief smile. "Introductions, seeing as we're going to be spending a lot of time together. I'm Frank, and you are?"</p><p>Swallowing the lump in his throat, he choked out, "Gerard."</p><p>"Nice to meet you." Frank said casually as if Gerard wasn't tied up and petrified. "If you try to escape, I'm afraid I'll have to shoot you, which would be a shame. Understand?"</p><p>He just nodded.</p><p>"Now, get out and wait while I get my things."</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Gerard simply nodded again, then unlocked the car door, kicking it open with his foot. He tried to fight the urge to run because it wouldn't be very good if he had a bullet lodged in his brain. There was a possibility of darting through the trees to use them as protection, but he didn't know how good of a shot Frank was or how fast he could run. Plus he didn't want to know what would happen if he angered the guy. Murder, most likely.</p><p>Stood shaking by the car, he waited patiently for Frank to collect his things, which consisted of a huge duffel bag, a long coat and a phone. Inside the duffel bag was only god knows what, but Gerard caught a glimpse when Frank dug around in it for a ribbon of black fabric.</p><p>"Turn around." Frank gestured for Gerard to do so, which he did hesitantly.</p><p>The world went black as Frank covered his eyes with a blindfold, tying it securely around his head, catching some of his wild black hair in the knot in the process.</p><p>"You can't know where we're going." Frank stated, taking Gerard's trembling hand in his own to guide him through the trees. There was blood on Frank's hands. Gerard's parents' blood. He wondered if his own would soon be decorating the murderer's pale skin too.</p><p>There was a car dealership not so far away, if Frank remembered correctly. The goal was to hot-wire a car to drive to his house, otherwise they'd have to walk and he didn't want to have to do that as his residence was quite a few hundred miles away -totally isolated from prying society.</p><p>-</p><p>Thankfully, some sort of twisted Angel was watching over them. The stealing of a car situation had gone smoothly. No one saw them, they scored a smart looking vehicle, and Frank had had no problems getting Gerard to do what he wanted. Of course, he'd been very persuasive when he'd had a knife pressed to the soft skin of Gerard's neck, threatening to tear through his throat.</p><p>They'd arrived safely at Frank's house, much to their surprise.</p><p>Gerard wasn't too ecstatic about it though, he didn't know what was going to happen next. Was he going to be killed like his parents? Meet the same gruesome demise? If he wasn't going to be murdered, then he dreaded to think what Frank was keeping him alive for.</p><p>The house smelled like coffee, mixed with various scents from candles and a pleasant smell wafted through the giant hallway from the kitchen, which was located at the back of the house. There was a cosy living room to the side of them, the stairs were to the right of the hall, leading up to three bedrooms and a bathroom. The warm atmosphere was a contradiction to the cold personality Frank wore.</p><p>Obviously, Gerard was still blindfolded, so he had no idea what the environments looked like, though he hoped it wasn't a scene straight out of a horror movie and the scenery matched the pleasant smells.</p><p>"Come with me." Frank suddenly grabbed Gerard's arm, making him let out a small yelp, leading him through the long hallway towards the door at the very back of the house.</p><p>The wooden floorboards creaked underneath them, then he heard an old door being pried open, so loud like it hadn't been used in years.</p><p>"I have a special room just for you." Frank informed cheerfully, guiding Gerard down stone steps in to a dingy room underneath the house.</p><p>Suddenly, completely opposite to how Frank had been treating him moderately kindly for the past evening, he roughly shoved Gerard to the floor. The harsh action caught him off guard and he stumbled over, whacking his shoulder on the hard ground.</p><p>The blindfold still obscured his vision, the ropes still restricting his movement. Starting to lose what little energy he had left, he rolled on to his back, the concrete floor scraping his delicate skin.</p><p>"I'll be down in the morning to get you settled in, okay?" Frank crouched down, leaning over Gerard to slide the blindfold off.</p><p>Squinting in the darkness, Gerard tried to make sense of what he was seeing but all he could make out was Frank's silhouette in the light shining in through the basement door.</p><p>"Sweet dreams." Frank grinned, deciding to leave the boy restrained to make the next morning easier to deal with.</p><p>The basement door slammed shut, plunging him in to complete darkness. Admittedly, Gerard was scared of the dark, and being in a strangers house didn't help in the slightest because had no idea what Frank possessed.</p><p>Well, Gerard supposed he might as well try to get some sleep, even though there were no blankets or pillows as far as he knew. He didn't fancy snooping around to search for any either. It was freezing as he only had on an old band t-shirt and ripped jeans, having no coat or means of protection against the cold.</p><p>Closing his eyes, he wished it was all a dream, despite knowing that deep down it really wasn't. This was where Gerard would have to spend the days for the foreseeable future.</p><p>
  <em>[Written 10 November 2020]</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. incisions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shockingly, regardless of being locked in a basement, unable to chase away the tormenting thoughts ruining what peace he tried to hold on to, Gerard had fallen asleep. He didn't know when or how, but he'd managed to drift off in to a sleep infested with nightmares. However, they couldn't scare him as much as thoughts of what the hell Frank was going to do with him did.</p><p>Indeed, his sleep must have been a hell of a deep one because when he woke up, he wasn't where he was last night –or however late in the morning it had been.</p><p>Gerard's eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the bright light that was hanging from the ceiling, illuminating only a few metres around it. He tried to lift a hand to wipe away the tears that had dried on his pale skin, but a strap tied around his wrist prevented him. Furrowing his brows, he looked down at the leather restraints secured around his wrists, ankles and stomach. When he began panicking, he also realised there was a strap around his neck too, which only caused him to start hyperventilating.</p><p>Lying on the floor seemed like a luxury now that he was tied helplessly to a chair. He couldn't move at all, like he was on display for whatever psychotic show the man had in store.</p><p>Gerard's rapid breathing patterns started to make him feel faint, and he slumped back, the strap digging in to his chin, leaving a red ring around his neck. It wasn't like he could cry out for help. The journey to arrive at the murderer's house had been a long one, so he doubted shouting his lungs out would benefit him in the slightest. Though he didn't discard that his screams would probably turn on the sadist upstairs.</p><p>Knowing he wasn't going to escape any time soon, Gerard attempted to still his breathing and calm down. He hesitantly glanced around the room, seeing grey brick walls, a wooden cupboard up against one of them, and a metal table with a tray on it by the door.</p><p>There were no windows as far as he could see, no other exits apart from the door looming opposite the chair.</p><p>Suddenly, the lock clicked, restarting Gerard's panicking, and the door swung open, revealing the man from yesterday. Now that he wasn't obscuring half of his face with a bandana, he could see how young he was, a few years older than Gerard at most.</p><p>Frank stepped in to the light, leaning down to smile sweetly at Gerard, who stared at him with wide eyes.</p><p>If they were in different circumstances, Gerard would have thought Frank was rather pretty. He had gorgeous hazel eyes, golden flecks glittering in them, a soft smile, which helped in calming Gerard's racing heart, and thick brown hair that framed his pale face beautifully.</p><p>"I apologise for the restraints, but I didn't know how you'd react." Frank said quietly, narrowing his eyes at the red marks around Gerard's neck. "Don't struggle, darling, you'll only hurt yourself, and that's my job."</p><p>Momentarily, Gerard stopped breathing. He stopped moving completely, gazing ahead as he tried not to cry. "What-" he stammered, digging his nails in to the palm of his hand. "What are you going to-to do to me?"</p><p>Frank smiled, but it was a different smile to the kind one he gave earlier. It was sly. "I don't know yet." He sighed thoughtfully, wandering over to the cupboard. He opened the doors wide, grinning at his collection of tools as he added in a cheery tone, "That's the fun part; deciding what I want to do to you first."</p><p>"You're sick." Gerard swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to act bold, despite being scared shitless.</p><p>"I'm not sick." All of the happiness had disappeared from his voice, and he turned around sharply as he glared at Gerard, slowly walking towards him. "Are you trying to insult me?"</p><p>With each step he took, a jolt of fear sparked through Gerard's bones. He regretted speaking now, he regretted even breathing, however, he knew he'd continue to talk back to gain some sort of power –however meaningless.</p><p>"Take it-take it how you want." He could feel his heart in his throat.</p><p>Frank was shaking with anger, not having control of his temper, which was always bubbling at the surface. He thumped the chair above Gerard's head, towering over him as he placed a finger under Gerard's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. It was difficult because Frank's gaze was harsh, like a perfectly sharpened knife.</p><p>Putting his other hand on Gerard's knee as he leaned in close, he whispered in his ear, "Don't insult me, sweetheart. It won't get you anywhere, but it'll hurt you more than it hurts me. Understand?"</p><p>Hesitantly, Gerard nodded.</p><p>"So," the kind smile returned. "I'll start you off easy." He fetched a small carving knife off of the metal tray, spinning it around by holding it with the tips of his fingers. There was an enthusiastic expression on his face, making Gerard shift uncomfortably, trying his best to wriggle one of his hands free just to punch the grin off Frank's lips.</p><p>"I get that you don't wanna be here." Frank rolled his eyes at Gerard's fear, looking him up and down, wondering where to start. "But by the end, you won't wanna leave."</p><p>"I doubt it." Gerard scowled, ignoring the itch of his skin being grazed off by the leather as he struggled.</p><p>"I've never done anything like this before, but I know what I want the outcome to be."</p><p>"Never done what before? K-kidnapped someone?"</p><p>"You were a mistake, I admit. I wasn't supposed to bring you home, but you knew too much and it'd be a shame to kill you." Biting his lip, Frank smiled mischievously. "I couldn't resist keeping you, you're so pretty."</p><p>Gerard grit his teeth, "I can't say the same for you-"</p><p>Frank slapped him, earning a loud gasp from Gerard, who hadn't quite expected the hit. Instantly, the skin on his cheek began to bloom red, the pain sinking in. It stung so badly, but he couldn't do anything to sooth the pain, and he knew Frank wouldn't.</p><p>"Don't make me ruin that pretty face." Frank said emotionlessly, fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to slap him a second time. Honestly, he didn't want to obscure Gerard's lovely features. However, the rest of his body was a canvas, and Frank very much wanted to carve in to it.</p><p>"Why would that upset you?" Gerard frowned, desperately trying to understand how Frank's brain ticked so he could learn how not to piss him off.</p><p>"It's not what I plan to damage." He replied, tilting his head as he chose a part of Gerard's body to use to begin his work. "Be grateful for that."</p><p>Frank crouched down to unbuckle the strap on Gerard's left wrist, sending him a warning look to not lash out, or he'd suffer the consequences. But Gerard stayed completely still, watching his every move. It wasn't until Frank raised the knife to his arm that he knew what he was going to do.</p><p>The instant the cold blade pressed against his skin, he yanked his arm to his chest. "Please don't."</p><p>"Don't even bother trying to persuade me." Frank growled, grabbing Gerard's arm to pin it to the chair. He would have strapped it back down to avoid any further slip ups, but he needed as much of his smooth skin as possible to mutilate it how he wanted.</p><p>Emitting strained screams from Gerard, Frank got to work. He made an incision at the back of Gerard's hand, and carved a line around his wrist, connecting the gash to make a full circle. His skin split open, blood seeping out and dripping on to the floor. The slit was quite deep, the sides of his skin peeling back as it had nothing to keep it together.</p><p>Gerard could feel the agony well enough, he didn't dare glance at it. Clenching his jaw, he threw his head back as he dug his heels in to the floor, pushing his whole body up as far as it would go with the restraints trapping him there.</p><p>It was the worst pain he'd ever felt. In his life, he'd never broken a bone, sprained anything, or had stitches, so his pain tolerance was probably rather low. Lower than it'd need to be to stop the tears from escaping his eyes anyway. They trickled down his face, soaking the collar of his t-shirt.</p><p>The constant sniffling was driving Frank insane. He would have preferred it if Gerard had endured it quietly, but he'd let out choked sobs or short screams once in a while. Though the screams didn't bother him too much, mainly just the crying.</p><p>Hours passed probably, to Gerard it seemed like an eternity, but Frank eventually announced he was done. He was quite proud of the design he'd carved in to Gerard's arm, similar to how he appreciated tattoos.</p><p>"They look beautiful." Frank beamed, tracing the outlines of the cuts with his finger, making Gerard screw his eyes shut at the sting. The cold air wasn't doing them any favours either. "Aren't you going to look?"</p><p>Shaking his head, Gerard bit his lip hard. He didn't particularly want to see the damage inflicted.</p><p>"But you have to see it before I wash the blood off." He coaxed, frowning at the fact the boy didn't want to see how pretty he'd made his previously bare and boring skin look.</p><p>"I-I don't want to."</p><p>Frank just sighed, then grabbed a bucket of water that Gerard hadn't realised he'd brought in. He fished a sponge out of the water, rinsing it over the bucket before he gently wiped the blood off Gerard's arm. He tried to avoid the open wounds, wanting them to stay red for as long as possible.</p><p>The blood contrasting with the pale skin was simply enchanting. Frank couldn't think of a better sight, and he smiled proudly at the design. He'd carved circles around Gerard's arm like permanent bracelets, and then spirals winding down from his wrist to fill the plain gaps between the bracelets.</p><p>It was a magnificent start to Frank's project. The physical aspect anyway. The emotional and mental work to change Gerard's mind would begin later. He couldn't fucking wait.</p><p>
  <em>[Written 19 December 2020]</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. respect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being trapped in darkness all day was incredibly disorientating. There were no clocks to tell him the time of day, no windows to give him natural light, and no other indications that the outside world still in fact existed out of Gerard’s tiny nightmare bubble. It was insanely silent. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, so he focused on that to maintain a state between wanting to sleep and wanting to escape.</p><p>It was lonely too. Not that Gerard had had any friends prior to this, but at least he’d had his parents to talk to -even if more than half of their conversations had morphed in to fights. The best he could do was listen to songs in his head, playing Bulls in the Bronx by Pierce the Veil over and over again. He’d even take Frank’s frighteningly unpredictable company over no one at all.</p><p>However, since having had his skin ripped open, Frank hadn't returned. After he’d cleaned Gerard’s wounds, Frank hadn't bothered to wrap them up to keep them from getting infected. He’d just left without saying another word, slamming the door shut on his way out. Thankfully, he’d left Gerard’s arm unrestrained, whether by accident or not, so he could hold it to his chest to try and lessen the pain.</p><p>There were blood stains printed all over his t-shirt, which was also doing no favours in keeping him warm. In the basement, there was no heating, and he didn't have any blankets. Frank had even taken his boots off so he didn't have anything covering his feet either. Really, he was relieved Frank hadn't changed his attire because he couldn't bare the thought of that high violation of his privacy.</p><p>By the time he heard faint footsteps outside the basement door, Gerard was shivering so much that his muscles were too tense, sending shooting pains throughout his body.</p><p>The door slowly opened, letting light flood in, almost blinding Gerard, who’d grown accustomed to the dimness of the basement. Frank came in to view, no expression on his face. “How’re you doing?” He asked, switching on the light above.</p><p>“I’m cold.” Gerard frowned, gazing at Frank pleadingly as he shielded his arm in case Frank planned on doodling any more of his precious ‘designs’.</p><p>“I figured.” He deadpanned, revealing a blanket that he’d had tucked up behind his back, and a pillow too. Gerard supposed this was peak kindness for the murderer. He tossed the objects to the floor in the corner, then raised his eyebrows, “If I untie you, you’re not going to try anything stupid, are you?”</p><p>“No.” Gerard answered truthfully, despite glancing longingly at the door -at a chance at freedom.</p><p>“No, what?” He narrowed his eyes, clasping his hands behind his back.</p><p>Furrowing his brows, he wondered what the hell he was getting at. What did he want him to say? “No. . . Frank?”</p><p>Shaking his head slightly, he ordered with a strange glint in his eye, “Call me sir. You should know your place, little one, and I expect you to show respect. If not, there are some punishments I can exercise.”</p><p>Gerard blinked, staring up at him as he immediately felt a thousand times more minuscule and pathetically vulnerable. “Okay.” He muttered, but Frank glared until he added, “Sir. . .”</p><p>A smile graced his lips as he crouched down to undo the straps around his ankles, “Good boy. Everything will be a lot easier for you if you follow the rules.”</p><p>As the straps were unbuckled, the condition of his skin was revealed, showing irritated red blisters littering his flesh where it’d been scraped off, and the cold air only made them sting even more. They already looked extremely sore only after a day had passed, though Gerard didn't dismiss the possibility that he’d been trapped here longer than that due to loosing track of time.</p><p>Admittedly, once the restraints were off his ankles, he resisted the urge to kick Frank in the face. He was at the perfect angle for it, but Gerard feared if he even dared to hurt him, then he’d be beaten to the brink of death.</p><p>“I don't have a mattress for you, so the floor will have to do. Complaints will not be appreciated.” Frank warned, stepping back to give the boy some space, and to guard the door.</p><p>Gerard just nodded, thankful he was allowed to move around now. Unsteadily rising to his feet, he used the chair for support as he stretched his muscles, letting out a huge sigh. He scratched his fingers through his hair, wincing at the ripping feeling that shot through his wounds when he moved his damaged arm.</p><p>Gingerly picking up the blanket off the floor to drape over his shoulders, he turned to Frank to ask hesitantly, “What day is it?”</p><p>“Why do you want to know?” Frank narrowed his gaze, causing Gerard to shiver uncomfortably in fear he’d somehow committed a crime.</p><p>Sighing quietly, he merely shrugged, unable to conjure up an excuse that would register good enough in the man’s twisted mind.</p><p>However, he still told him, “It’s Thursday.”</p><p>Thursday. Gerard lost his breath. If he remembered correctly, it had been Sunday when his parents were killed. He knew this because that morning he recalled ignoring their wishes for him to attend church with them for the millionth time since he’d discovered he wasn't actually religious.</p><p>Ergo, Gerard had been in a dingy basement for four miserable days. The thought made his stomach lurch, a burning started in his throat, and he wondered what the hell else had happened in that time. Were there police out searching for them? Was anyone worried about his disappearance? Or did no one care because he had no attachments other than his deceased parents?</p><p>“Oh.” He blinked.</p><p>“Not the answer you were looking for?” Frank raised his eyebrows. “You were unconscious for quite a while after arriving here. At first, I thought the initial shock was too much, but I was glad to see you were awake this morning.”</p><p><em>Glad?</em> Gerard scoffed quietly. He didn't understand where he stood in Frank’s mind.</p><p>“I’ll let you get some rest.” He continued when Gerard didn't offer any input. A strange smile spread across Frank’s lips as he went to close the basement door, “Big day tomorrow.”</p><p>-</p><p>Astonishingly, the floor was more comfortable than Gerard had expected. Honestly, he was grateful to be free of the restraints, stretching out along the concrete floor like a little black cat -whining and almost purring in his sleep like one too, wrapped up in a blanket, hiding from his new reality.</p><p>Because it was totally quiet, Gerard's mind kept playing tricks. He'd hear sounds of footsteps or the occasional whisper, but dismissed them as noises made by the murderer upstairs. It was impossible for anyone else to be down here with him anyway, as he hadn't recalled Frank bringing in anyone else, and the door had remained shut for a good few hours now. Gerard felt dirty. In result of not being able to shower in almost a week, his hair was greasy, skin was kind of sticky, and the smell wasn't too great either.</p><p>However, he could only pretend for so long because the door to the basement opened a few hours later, revealing Frank, who was carrying a tray of food. The smell filled the room, causing Gerard’s eyes to widen as he sat up eagerly, lips slightly parted. God, he hadn't had food in ages, and he was beginning to realise how hungry he actually was.</p><p>“Is-is that for me?” Gerard stuttered, scrambling to kneel, sitting back on his feet. Looking up with a hopeful smile, he gave Frank his most pleading eyes.</p><p>Setting the tray down on the metal table, Frank answered plainly, “Yes. . . You’ve been behaving quite well, I think you deserve something.” Dinner and the ability to move, Frank must have been in a generous mood, putting Gerard in a false sense of security.</p><p>Upon hearing Frank talking to him like that, Gerard frowned. He wasn't an animal to be trained and restricted. Taking a deep breath, he frowned, “I-I’m not a dog, you know.”</p><p>“No.” The words were said softly, almost in an adoring manner, but the smile that spread across his face seemed menacing. He knelt down on one knee in front of Gerard, piercing him with his gaze as he put a finger under Gerard’s chin to tilt his head up. “But if I wish, I can treat you like one. . . Tie you up like one too, what do you think?”</p><p>Gerard blinked, slowly shaking his head. Heart pounding in his chest, he hoped the murderer would leave so he could eat in peace. He felt uncomfortable being in such close proximity, though his touch was gentle, he remembered those were the same hands that had stolen the life from his parents.</p><p>“I thought not. . . So don’t complain, or I will.” Frank got up as he walked backwards towards the door, grabbing the handle to close it. “I’ll be back for the tray in fifteen minutes.” That said, he shut the door and ascended back up to the house that was so much warmer and welcoming than the dingy basement Gerard was trapped in.</p><p>Cautiously, hunching over slightly from stomach pains as he walked towards the metal table, he looked at the food on the tray. Bread and butter was presented neatly on white ceramic plates, a bowl of pasta and a glass of water beside it. Of course, there was no knife or fork for obvious reasons, so he’d have to use his fingers but he didn't really mind too much. The meal smelled divine, making Gerard nearly whine from the pain in his stomach. He wanted to eat, but he didn't want to accept anything from Frank of all people.</p><p>However, his hunger got the better of him and he started eating the pasta the fastest he’d ever devoured anything in his life. It, as well as the bread was gone in just over five minutes, causing the food to burn his tongue slightly but he didn't care. The water helped manage his headache, allowing him to relax a little.</p><p>Keeping to his words, Frank did return in fifteen minutes, startling Gerard when he abruptly opened the door. He saw everything had been eaten and smiled kindly, which was strange as Gerard didn't think that was a natural expression for him.</p><p>“Glad to see you’ve eaten. You’ve got to keep your strength up.”</p><p>Sadly, Gerard knew what that meant. He would have to stay moderately healthy because torture and pain was in the future -possibly being the only future he would ever know from now on. His arm still stung with every moment, riddled with the prickling of his wounds as they healed.</p><p>“Pass me the tray.” He ordered, holding his hand out expectantly.</p><p>Complying, Gerard picked it up with shaky hands, making the plate, bowl and glass rattle dangerously on top. Biting his lip, he tried not to drop anything but inevitably failed. The glass of water had been too close to the edge and it toppled off the tray, smashing on the concrete floor.</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” Gerard immediately blurted out, voice cracking with the fear he’d be punished.</p><p>Appearing annoyed, Frank simply sighed, “It’s okay. Just clear this up, I’ll be back with a dust pan and brush for you.” He took the tray from Gerard’s trembling hands, then disappeared upstairs.</p><p>Carefully, Gerard began picking up the bigger shards, successful in not shredding his fingers on them. Though while he was staring at the sharp pieces, an idea sprung to mind. Hoping Frank wouldn't notice, he took the sharpest, pointiest shard of glass and shoved it in his jeans pocket to save it for later. With the remaining pieces, he scooped them in to a pile so the missing piece wouldn't be as noticeable.</p><p>Just as Gerard finished piling up the bigger pieces, Frank came back, holding a dust pan and brush out to Gerard, who took them and started sweeping all the glass up. It didn't take too long, but he got a small cut on the base of his foot from accidentally stepping on some glass. He didn't even notice until he noticed the blood on his heel. He ignored it.</p><p>One it was cleared up, he handed the dust pan and brush back to Frank for him to empty the glass in to the bin. Not a word was spoken between them and Gerard was glad to have gotten away with keeping a shard. He didn't know what he would use it for yet, but it gave him a shimmer of hope and strength -now he had something that could inflict damage.</p><p>
  <em>[Written 17 January 2021]</em>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. mistakes</h2></a>
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    <p>Gerard had a plan.</p><p>Granted, it wasn't a very good plan, but it was all he had to work with considering the shitty circumstances. He didn't expect anything good to come out of it, but he wanted to try regardless because he knew he'd regret it if he didn’t. Though he was sure if his plan failed that Frank would make sure he suffered for it afterwards.</p><p>Even though Gerard wasn't particularly looking forward to carrying out his little plan, he knew Frank would torture him even if he didn't misbehave, so either way it was pretty much a lose/lose. Honestly, his chances of achieving anything that benefited him were horrendously low. But he supposed it was better than doing absolutely nothing.</p><p>That was why, after having a restless sleep on the uncomfortable concrete, Gerard’s heart started racing with the knowledge of what he’d have to do. Never in his life had he misbehaved greatly. Unlike most teenagers, he hadn't had friends to party or go out with, so he'd never had a rebellious stage. Though he guessed his parents had thought him just being himself was rebellious enough.</p><p>One thing he wouldn't miss about his parents was their constant denial. They'd attempted to change him on numerous occasions, forcing him to go to church, and ignoring his actual personality as they tried to convert him in to what they wanted their son to be, instead of appreciating him for being different. He felt slightly sick thinking he was better off with his parents dead, however his current predicament made him think being back with his mother and father would be heaven compared. After all, he had loved them, they had been his parents, and they'd raised him.</p><p>Breaking him out of his thoughts, Frank spoke, “Morning.”</p><p>Nearly jumping out of his skin, Gerard automatically replied, “Morning.” He felt extra jittery knowing he had some form of a weapon, and all his thoughts were screaming at him, telling him that on some level, Frank knew what he’d done. It was highly unnerving.</p><p>“Big day today.” Frank smiled, eyes flashing with excitement, scaring the living daylights out of Gerard, who would much rather have continued sleeping.</p><p>Defeated, he rose to his feet, reluctantly untangling himself from the warm blanket to stand in the freezing air. “What’re you going to-to do to me?”</p><p>Gesturing to the chair as he shut the basement door, Frank cocked his head to the side quite innocently, and for a moment, Gerard thought he seemed rather sweet. But that broke almost instantly when he said casually, “I’m going to see how long it takes for you to drown.”</p><p>Eyes wide, Gerard swallowed the lump in his throat, clasping his hands behind his back to reach in to his pocket for the glass shard. He’d decided he was definitely going to use it now. “I-I-what? You’re going to-to drown me?”</p><p>“Waterboarding. It’s similar.” He sensed the boy’s discomfort and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. Like I’ve told you before, that’s not my intention.”</p><p>Well, that totally made it less frightening.</p><p>Hesitantly, Gerard walked over to the chair and sat down, concealing the shard in his palm, squeezing it so tightly it nearly pierced his skin. He watched fearfully as Frank gathered the necessary tools for this particular session of torture, wondering what the hell was going to do about this.</p><p>Going to attack him now wouldn't do him any good. Frank would see it coming, and overpower him -he had the strength and experience, judging by how he acted.</p><p>Patiently, doubting himself with every passing second, Gerard sat waiting, until Frank leaned down a little to tie the leather straps around his wrists. He was at the right level, their eyes right opposite each other, focusing on completely different things -the restraints and the murderer.</p><p>A small “oh my god” escaped Gerard’s lips right before he pounced. The restraints weren’t tied yet, so he could still make a run for it when needed.</p><p>At the sound of Gerard’s meek voice, Frank glanced over at him, furrowing his brows. “What did you say-”</p><p>Talking would have to wait, because Gerard mustered all his strength and plunged the glass shard in to Frank’s neck, cutting through layers of soft flesh. Blood instantly poured all over his hand, seeping through his fingers, an uneasy wetness. Startled by his own actions, he stared directly in to Frank’s eyes, and they stared right back at him, huge and dark. A quiet gasp left Frank’s parted lips, a hand flying to the wound now gouged in his neck.</p><p>Not wasting anymore time, Gerard leaped out of the chair, releasing the shard from his grasp, leaving it lodged in Frank’s neck. He didn't dare glance back, afraid that somehow Frank would be behind him, ready to catch him like a predator after its prey.</p><p>Shock ran cold through Frank’s bones, paralysing him momentarily as he fell to his knees, a hand over the gash to slow the bleeding, the other on the ground to stop himself from collapsing against it. Unspeakable pain shot lightning bolts through every nerve. Hot blood trickled down his neck, soaking the collar of his shirt.</p><p>Even if the wound didn't kill him, Gerard prayed it would at least slow him down. He could imagine Frank wouldn’t be very active after losing some blood, glass sticking out his skin. The murderer was tough, but he wasn't invincible, and he had to keep that in mind as he ran frantically up the basement stairs, slamming the door behind him to put a barrier between them.</p><p>Due to having been still for a big chunk of his time here, Gerard’s legs were sore, his muscles shouting at him to stop running. It ached to move so quickly. Though the pain couldn't assuage him, he needed to find an exit.</p><p>The kitchen was dimly lit by a lamp at the end of the counter, which illuminated the garden door. Gerard immediately darted over to it, vigorously yanking the handle, but it was locked. Of course, it wouldn't have conveniently been left open. Maybe none of the doors in this place were unlocked, though he had to prey one of them was. There was no key around that he could see, so he headed for where he guessed the front door would be.</p><p>Gerard stumbled in to the living room, glancing around at the windows, which were all jammed shut. The outside world was black, and he could only see his reflection, no glimpse of the house’s surroundings. Wooden boards had been stamped over the glass. He had no idea where they were, but it was most likely the middle of nowhere in the countryside.</p><p>Tucking his tangled hair behind his ears, Gerard decided to pause to search through the drawers in the cabinet in hopes of finding a key of some sort. He didn't care which one or what it did -he’d climb out of a velux window on to the roof at his point.</p><p>There wasn't anything useful, just old papers, pens, wires, and books. Honestly, nothing in the living room screamed <em>sadistic murderer</em>. It seemed perfectly normal, like it belonged to a young man, who probably had a mundane job and practiced art in their spare time. Though, that was half true. What Frank did to Gerard, that was what he called art.</p><p>Suddenly, Gerard heard the basement door creak, causing a deadly shiver to run down his spine.</p><p>Frank was coming.</p><p>Tears started to pool in his eyes, clouding his vision as he staggered towards the hallway, reaching out for the front door, which inevitably wasn't unlocked. A scared cry left his lips, and he cleared his throat, trying not to make too much noise, but failed. He was so fucking terrified.</p><p>Unsuccessful in finding an exit, Gerard raced towards the stairs, hand on the banister, however something caught his shirt collar before he could run, yanking him backwards as he shrieked. He collided with the wooden floor, a gasp leaving his lips as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Towering above him was a very angry Frank, who was clutching at the wound on his neck, pale and sweaty. He didn't look too good.</p><p>Thankfully, even though the cut wasn't deep enough to hit an artery, Gerard could tell he’d done some damage, because he could see the tiredness in his features that had been masked over with determination, and his breathing was laboured, meaning it was obviously hard to do, tiring him out even more. Yet, in his state, Frank was still able to overpower Gerard.</p><p>There was clear intent glimmering in Frank’s eyes. Gerard was certainly going to pay for what he’d done.</p><p>Scrambling backwards, crawling along on his hands, Gerard tried to put as much distance between them as possible. It didn't work. Before he could get any further, Frank leaned down, grabbed him roughly by the shirt, and hauled him up to stand. They were face to face.</p><p>Eyes wide, Gerard attempted one last time to get away, struggling out of his grasp, though it was no use as Frank quickly spun him around so he could catch him in a headlock. His arm wrapped around Gerard’s throat as -with a strangled deep breath- he quickly took his hand off the wound to reach in his pocket for a syringe, which he always carried around for a situation like this. To keep him under control, he needed the boy sedated. It didn't help that he was afraid of needles, only fuelling him on to try and run.</p><p>“Get off me!” Gerard screamed, throat dry. Relentlessly, he clawed at the murderer’s arms, desperately trying to force him to let go, but Frank wasn't giving up. Not when he’d hurt him so badly. Honestly, Gerard was naive to think for a second that his poorly formed plan would work.</p><p>“Hush, darling.” Frank growled, swiftly plunging the needle in to Gerard’s neck.</p><p>It hit him like a tidal wave. A dizziness infected his brain, seeping in to the corners of his eyes as his vision gradually doubled. The hold on his neck loosened, and he blindly pushed himself away from Frank, who had returned to putting a hand over his neck to slow the bleeding, watching as Gerard stumbled around. He tried to find balance, but he fell against the wall.</p><p>The haziness spread throughout his body, and he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, barely able to keep his eyes open. He saw Frank crouch down in front of him, glaring. Reaching out towards him, he managed to scratch at the murderer’s cheek before the drowsiness engulfed his body, and he went completely limp, eyes rolling in to the back of his head.</p><p>
  <em>[written 27 February 2021]</em>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. silence</h2></a>
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    <p>When he woke up, he was met with a bitch of a headache. It hurt to open his eyes, but luckily the basement was dark, so there was no light to make it worse. Everything was silent. He couldn't even hear movement upstairs.</p><p>Gerard tried to move, to rub his eyes of the tiredness, but he discovered they were restrained, locked together with rope tied to a latch on the stone wall. Letting out a deep breath, he tugged at the rope to see if it would loosen at all, though he knew it was futile. The restraints didn't let up, only scratching layers of skin off his wrists -further reminding him that, yes, the cuts on his arm had barely begun healing.</p><p>It was hard not to start crying again. There was nothing to he could do, only sit there and wait for Frank to return and deliver the inevitably agonising punishment he was dreading. If what the murderer had done up to now was for his entertainment, he couldn't imagine what he’d come up with for revenge. After all, he had stabbed the guy.</p><p>Despite wishing he hadn't done it, he didn't entirely regret it. He’d take it back so he wouldn't have to face what was coming, but he was glad that he’d managed to hurt him too -usually it was the other way around.</p><p>The sedative that Frank had injected him with -a few hours ago, maybe days- was still lingering in his system, causing his vision to remain blurry, head hazy. To put it simply, he was exhausted. He was tired of being scared, of the pain, and of the torment.</p><p>Three days, Gerard had counted. There’d been no appearance from Frank, not even to bring him food or water. His stomach was twisted in knots, painfully reminding him that he needed to eat. The lack of water had made his head pound, and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears.</p><p>Perhaps it wasn't three days exactly, Gerard didn't have a calendar or a watch, so his sense of time had completely escaped him. He only guessed three days because he’d attempted to count the hours. Most of the time, he’d spent asleep.</p><p>Then, he heard footsteps descending the stairs.</p><p>Eyes wide, Gerard hurried to sit up as he watched the door fearfully, pressing his back to the wall in hopes he could pass through it and disappear.</p><p>The door opened to reveal a somewhat calm Frank, who was holding a tray. The smell of food immediately invaded Gerard’s senses, and he ached for something to eat. He didn't turn the light on, leaving the light from the kitchen upstairs to stream in instead -only making him more of a sinister shadow.</p><p>Swallowing the lump in his throat, Gerard dared to ask if the food was for him -he definitely couldn't assume, but Frank held up a hand to silence him before he could utter a word.</p><p>Setting the tray down on the metal table, he said, “I underestimated how stupid you are. Did you really think you’d get away?”</p><p>Honestly, no. But he’d had a whole lot of hope -resorting to praying to a god he didn't believe in.</p><p>Clearly, Frank was holding back a lot of rage. He could see it in the way he shifted, the intensity in his eyes, and his lip twitched occasionally. There was a waver in his voice too. “You will pay for what you’ve done, darling, believe me.”</p><p>Oh, definitely. Gerard believed one hundred percent that he was going to get his ass kicked.</p><p>If he squinted enough, Gerard could just about make out Frank’s face in the darkness. Really, it didn’t appear as if he was doing too well. The colour of his skin had completely drained, causing him to look practically white. The wound on his neck had been bandaged, and cleaned well enough to stop any infections, though blood had seeped through. A deep red stain on his otherwise clear skin.</p><p>When he moved his head, Gerard noticed Frank winced, which annoyingly made him feel guilty. However, he didn’t exactly want to feel guilty. He wasn't about to sympathise or apologise.</p><p><em>He murdered my parents</em>.</p><p>Seeing as he’d caused trouble last time he’d been allowed to move freely, Frank didn't untie him, and instead started to wheel the table over to where he was sat.</p><p>Glaring over at him through his long hair, Frank hummed, “But,” there was a debate going on in his head on whether he should feed the boy now or leave him suffering in wait. Leave him starving until he begged. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “For now, eat. I’ll be back down in fifteen minutes.”</p><p>The instant the door was shut behind him as Frank exited, footsteps ascending upstairs, Gerard came to life with want, and shuffled forwards as much as the ropes would allow to see what he’d been given. Truth be told, he didn't think he’d receive food ever again after what he'd done, so for this he was grateful. Actually, a thought had crossed his mind that Frank might have force fed him something incredibly gross to make him sick. Or maybe this was his way of poisoning him.</p><p>Either way, Gerard was starving so he didn't really care. For obvious reasons, there was no cutlery or anything that could be used as a weapon -even the plate was paper. Today, dinner was sausages and beans. That, he could deal with.</p><p>Gerard devoured it in record time. Perhaps was the nerves, but he was ten times hungrier than he’d ever been in his life. If this food was poisoned, he’d happily die with this being his last meal -the man was good at cooking apparently.</p><p>Even though Frank was cruel, there was kindness in his ways. Sure, he tortured him, but at least he gave him proper meals. He could have not even bothered and serve him literal shit, but he didn’t. He could have left his wounds to grow infected, but he’d cleaned them for him. There were worse murderers in the world, he supposed.</p><p>Once he’d finished, it left his throat dry and aching, wishing he had water. There were puddles in a corner of the basement where rain had leaked through (the dripping noise driving him insane), though he didn't think he was that desperate. Yet.</p><p>Fifteen minutes passed all too quickly, and Gerard was picking apart the last sausage when Frank walked in, the door creaking loudly, making him jump out of his skin. Light streamed in, Frank’s silhouette clear against it.</p><p>“Are you done?” He asked, almost tiredly.</p><p>Gerard snatched the sausage up off the plate, then nodded, hoping Frank wouldn't take it away.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>While Frank pulled the table back to its original place, Gerard spoke up hesitantly, “Is-is it morning?”</p><p>Furrowing his brows, Frank glanced over at him, the intensity in his eyes scaring him slightly. “Yes.” He answered slowly. “Why?”</p><p>Unable to think of a reply, he shrugged. There were no clocks, but Gerard had guessed it had been morning. Since he’d woken up a few hours ago, he’d been expecting a full day of torture up ahead. It confused him greatly when nothing drastic happened at all. Everything was quiet.</p><p>Maybe Frank was still too inured to keep his control over Gerard without the help of restraints. Maybe he was dragging it out to make him suffer the anticipation, knowing anything could happen at any moment.</p><p>Cocking his head to the side, a small smile spread across Frank’s face. It wasn’t a calming smile. It scared the crap out of him. Then he bowed his head slightly. “Goodnight.” Although they were pretty, his eyes were chilling. . . staring at him, wide and sparkling.</p><p>“Uh-” he swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling like he should answer quickly. “Goodnight. . .” Frank narrowed his gaze, and he added, “S-sir. . .”</p><p>Then he left. And didn't return all day.</p><p>Occasionally, there was the sound of movement upstairs, or music on the radio, rock music to be exact (he liked being able to listen to it), or someone else’s voice -which only frightened him further because he hadn't stopped to think that Frank had friends. What kind of friends could they be anyway? Fellow murderers? More sadistic assholes?</p><p>To see if the other person would help him, he briefly considered screaming his lungs out. However, that would probably backfire majorly and get him beaten -or shot.</p><p>Eventually, the hours of the day merged in to one, nine o'clock at night approaching, and Gerard drifted off to sleep. Shivering, wrapped up in the blanket, which had unfortunately become dirty from the concrete floor and the sweat from when he had nightmares. The rough ground scraped against his bare skin whenever he moved, resulting in little scratches on his cheeks and arms, sometimes a few cuts on his knees through the rips in his skinny jeans.</p><p>Seeing as he had no particular schedule, it was terrifying not knowing when Frank would appear again.</p><p>[written 28 April 2021]</p>
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